


Distract Me

by noorakardemmomesaetre



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Because It's High School, Enemies With Benefits, Eventual Romance, Except Not Really Enemies, F/F, F/M, High School, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Just Like Opposite Sides of the Tracks, M/M, Mutual Lust, Mutually Unrequited, Northside vs. Southside, Opposites Attract, Slow Burn, Smut, Some angst, but only briefly, seemingly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16654834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noorakardemmomesaetre/pseuds/noorakardemmomesaetre
Summary: She finds him utterly arrogant and dangerous. He finds her completely self-absorbed and uptight.And yet, they satisfy each other's needs in ways neither of them could have ever imagined.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for checking out this fic, babes! your response has been the best surprise of writing this. 
> 
> Please note: this fic will alternate POV's according to chapter and will alternate between Present Day and Past at the top of every chapter. 
> 
> enjoy! ❤

_no angels could beckon me back,_

_and it's hotter than hell where i'm at._

-troye sivan

 

**Fall, Present - B. Cooper**

 

“Betty Cooper looks like she has a secret.”

Her older sister, Polly, tugs the brush from her hand and smiles playfully at her through her vintage vanity mirror. Betty only feigns innocence for a second, her gaze meeting Polly’s expectantly raised eyebrow, before a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“What makes you say that?”

Polly runs the brush through the soft waves falling across her shoulders and there’s something almost nostalgic about the moment. She truly can’t remember the last time her big sister had come into her room like this. Had brushed her hair like she had done to her Barbies when they were small.

“I don’t know,” Polly says in a way that makes Betty think she _does_ know and her cheeks burn at the thought. “You seem less anxious lately, more relaxed. You’re wearing less makeup under your eyes.”

“Maybe the melatonin is actually working out.” Betty shrugs as she says the word, as if the melatonin is obviously the answer to her sudden ability to get a full night of rest.

“Or maybe someone is working _you_ out.”

“Polly!” Betty gasps, turning around to find her sister giggling, holding up the brush in surrender. Betty rolls her eyes, knowing the tips of her ears have pinkened as she finally smiles at her sister.

“But, seriously,” Polly says, tossing the brush onto her sister’s vanity countertop before hopping onto her bed. “Is it a boy?”

“Not everything is about a boy.” Betty’s trying to appear nonchalant as she avoids her sister’s knowing smile and prying questions. Polly shrugs in response, yawning before she slides off the bed and towards the bedroom door.

She pauses and Betty sighs, turning to where her sister is now leaning against her door frame, knowing her need to have the last word. “Whoever he is, if he’s helping you sleep...I already like him.”

“There’s no boy!” Betty calls after her sister’s retreating back, ignoring her heated cheeks and standing up quickly to shut her bedroom door. Walking over to her full size closet mirror, she stares at herself for a few moments.

Her face is flushed and she winces at the sight, proof that her body can’t keep a secret. Not from her older sister anyways. She pulls off her pajama top to try on an outfit for tomorrow, knowing that as a Cooper she needs to look her best. No matter what kind of pressure she’s currently under.

That’s when she sees it.

Her fingers slowly trace down her neck to the bruised skin above the cup of her bra. It’s faded, having been there for two or three days now. She circles it, the memory of the mouth that made it ingrained in her mind.

* * *

 

“I’m confused, B, why did you agree to lead the prom committee when you’ve already got so many extracurriculars even Harvard feels like you’re overachieving?”

“You applied to Harvard?” Cheryl glances at Betty with her perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “Overly ambitious, aren’t we, Betty dearest?”

“I didn’t apply to Harvard, Cheryl, but I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Betty says with a pointed sigh at her other best friend, sharing a look with Veronica who attempts to hide her laughter. “Anyways, Ethel asked me herself before she stepped down and how am I supposed to tell her no? I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can, but do you _need_ to?” Veronica tilts her head with only the kind of genuine concern Veronica can convey and Betty groans, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork.

“Topic change, please,” Cheryl says, breaking the heavy silence that has fallen amongst the girls and the tension in Betty’s shoulders eases. “Toni Topaz is in my Home Ec class.”

Veronica looks up from her own salad, a small smile playing on her face. “And why does that matter?”

“It doesn’t, I’m just surprised she’s taking Home Ec at all.”

Betty sticks her tongue in her cheek slightly to acknowledge Veronica’s knowing smile before she can’t help herself. “Seniors are _required_ to take Home Ec, Cher…”

“The Serpents hardly care about requirements, Betty. I’ll be shocked if any of them graduate at all.”

 

As if summoned by Cheryl’s condescending remark, the cafeteria falls silent as the cafeteria doors are shoved open by a couple of leather clad Serpents. Even Betty can’t help but turn towards the entrance, her eyes searching for the worn gray beanie she’d never willingly admit she’s looking for.

 

She can’t see him behind Sweet Pea’s tall build, his Serpent tattoo peaking over the collar of the black polo he’s wearing. Veronica immediately picks up her phone, opening Instagram to scroll as he makes his way past their table and Betty’s suspicions that her best friend may have an actual thing for the Serpent heighten.

The only female Serpent that Betty knows about is walking behind him talking quietly into her phone. Her brightly-dyed locks bounce against the back of her leather jacket and her eyes travel to where Cheryl is sitting. Cheryl straightens, her mouth parting slightly when their eyes meet before she turns away as if annoyed by the moment.

But the real reason the cafeteria has fallen silent walks in as though he couldn’t be more bothered by everything about Riverdale High and a heat creeps up the column of Betty’s neck as she watches him. His hands are shoved casually into his leather jacket and he stops as if he’s suddenly noticed everyone staring at him.

Tilting his head, his signature smirk replaces the scowl that seems to have found permanent residence on his face. He glances about the cafeteria before his gaze falls on her and she can almost hear her heart pounding as the cafeteria falls away around him.

He smiles, a genuine smile, and Betty’s eyebrows raise as she shakes her head slightly. _What is he doing?_

That’s when he starts laughing, shaking his head, and she realizes he’s looking just past her. At Fangs, who’s motioning something to him that she doesn’t understand and she quickly turns her attention back to her salad.

_I am literally so embarrassing._

“Betty, I am in desperate need of a blood orange San Pellegrino. Be a doll?” Cheryl interrupts Betty’s inner monologue, her cherry red lips curved in a tight smile as she pushes a crisp five dollar bill across the table.  

Veronica is busy typing out a text and Betty groans, snatching the bill off the table and heading towards the cafeteria line. She’s trying to figure out where exactly these drinks are located, having only purchased water bottles herself, when her phone buzzes.

Unlocking her phone, she glances at the four unread messages waiting in her inbox; her anxiety starting to creep from the accelerated beat of her heart to the twitching of her fingers.

**Mother:** _Elizabeth, please be home by 5:00PM today. Your father and I…_

**Ethel:** _I know you’re the new prom committee lead, but I don’t see you…_

**Cher (HBIC):** _Vixens practice today at 3:30PM sharp - seriously, Betty…_

**Josie:** _Thank you so much for featuring me in the music section, B! But next time…_

She’s closing her phone without opening any of the messages, her breaths becoming uneven as her nails threaten to break the skin of her palms, when she feels the warmth of a hand pressed against her mid-back.

An inch too low to be a stranger. But not low enough to mean anything more.

“I gotta get through, Cooper.”

His voice is a murmur behind her and she realizes he’s trying to nudge her out of the way of the line to the cash registers.

As soon as she moves, his hand leaves her body, but she can still feel the gentle pressure against her back. Her eyes widen when she sees the amount of food piled onto his cafeteria tray and she can’t help the soft giggle that falls from her mouth.

“Seriously, how do you eat all of that and still look like -” she wishes she could grab the words that have just left her mouth and shove them back down, but it’s too late and she motions carelessly towards his body as she mutters, “that...”

He drags his tongue across his bottom lip in a way that Betty finds completely unnecessary - as long as she’s ignoring the heat pooling between her legs - before a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth.

“Let’s just say Cooper,” the cockiness in his voice makes her want to punch him - but also...maybe... tug his mouth down to hers - as he continues, “every few days, I get a _really_ good work out.”

“God, that guy is good-looking. Think he’ll ever try swinging for the other team?”

Betty’s mouth snaps shut after having fallen open the moment he’d walked away and she turns towards Kevin, another of her closest friends, hoping he can’t see the way her eyes can’t possibly be any wider.

“He’s not good looking, Kev,” she finally manages, deciding Cheryl doesn’t need a San Pellegrino _that_ bad.

* * *

She’s not sure why she texts him.

Actually, she’s not sure of anything that has to do with him. And her.

And yet, here she stands behind the old, solid oak desk that is the Editor-In-Chief’s of the Blue and Gold office. She runs her fingers absentmindedly through her perfectly curled ponytail and sighs softly as she hears the last few footsteps of people running to their after-school activities.

She has River Vixen practice in 30 minutes and she knows she’s going to have to race their after her...meeting. At least, that’s what she’d told Veronica so that her best friend didn’t follow her to the student newspaper office.

Her heart pounds within the confines of her chest as she tries to ignore the way the room is humming in anticipation. She jots a note down on the whiteboard behind her - her need to find anything to do overwhelming her more so than her excitement - before she casually walks over to the window beside the entry door.

She’s drawing the blinds when the door opens and he’s barely had a chance to shut it behind him before her arms wrap around his neck as her lips crash against his with a need she hadn’t realized had become desperate since she’d seen him at lunch.

“You’re late,” she says against his mouth, her fingers gripping his hair in a way that knocks his beanie to the ground.

His hands find the back of her thighs and she wraps them around his torso as he carries her with ease. She can feel his teeth sinking into her lower lip in response and she moans at the pleasure that sends what feels like electricity to her core. He finds her desk, shoving a stack of papers to the side and ignoring the way they scatter across the floor so that he can set her atop.

“Bad day?” he murmurs as he tugs at the hem of her shirt, only parting for a moment to yank it off before his lips find solace against her neck.

Her heart clenches as her eyebrows furrow at his question, her head tilting back to allow him more access to the column of her neck.

“I thought we weren’t doing that.”

Her fingers slip under his t-shirt and she drags her nails roughly down his back, knowing they’ll leave marks he’ll be able to see later. He growls against her collarbone, sucking the skin there in retaliation until he knows she’ll be wearing collared sweaters for the rest of the week.

“Doing what?” he finally manages, taking his own shirt off and tossing it atop hers on the desk.

Her eyes roam his body appreciatively, taking in every part of his lean and toned torso before she wills herself to look into his eyes. “The feelings thing.”

She pulls him closer to her before he can respond and his lips meet hers, sighing softly when her tongue slips into his mouth. His fingers grip the back of her neck as he leans her back, planting hot and panted kisses between her breasts.

He lifts his gaze to meet hers, holding it steadily as her chest heaves with each anticipated breath, and he chuckles. “Trust me, Cooper, this is only a distraction for me.”

She tugs her pouty bottom lip between her teeth as his fingers drag the cup of her baby blue lace bra down. He takes her nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before tugging it between his teeth until he elicits the soft, but high pitched whine he wants from her.

“Is that so, Jones?” she finally whispers, her back arched as he moves back up her neck. With complete disregard for the unlocked door to the Blue and Gold and the fact that they’re at school, her eyes fixate on his as she opens her legs suggestively. “Then _distract me.”_

  
A rough growl leaves his mouth before he falls to his knees and does. just. _that._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and i'll get you lost  
> but i'm having fun 
> 
> -king princess

**Summer, Past – J. Jones**

 

It’s raining.

 

In the middle of June.

 

_Only in fucking Riverdale._

 

Jughead sighs to himself as the warm drops roll off of his bare shoulders into the dirt he’s been digging through for the past five hours. He can hear a couple of the other guys talking loudly about packing up to leave, but he hopes Mr. Andrews gives them the choice.

 

He needs this money.

 

“Jones! We’re going to call it for today!” the voice ripping through what has become a downpour is that of the owner’s son and Jughead manages a nod of acknowledgement.

 

_Shit._

 

Archie Andrews jogs over to him, ever the one to be friendly even amongst all of his Northside friends.

 

“Damn dude,” Archie says as soon as he’s standing next to Jughead, peering into the result of all of that digging: a giant hole. “Rain is a bitch. We’re going to have to re-dig tomorrow.”

 

Jughead shrugs in response, running his fingers through his drenched locks. Having to re-dig means another day of work and he can’t complain when Mr. Andrews is already going out on a limb by hiring him.

 

“Got any plans for the rest of the day?” Archie falls into step next to him as they make their way back to the trailer where their lockers are located. The dirt turns to mud beneath their feet and all Jughead can think about is how shitty this will be to work in tomorrow.

 

“Sleep,” Jughead answers, side-eyeing the mop of red hair next to him. Though they’ve never crossed paths before this summer, he’s known of Archie since before the two high schools merged.

 

Riverdale High’s golden boy. Quarterback for the Bulldogs. He’s a walking cliché in Jughead’s opinion, but he’s also been the only Northsider to extend him a hand this summer.

 

“I think we’re all going to meet at Pop’s after showers,” Archie says conversationally, his eyes squinted slightly in the general direction of the parking lot. “You’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”

 

Jughead blinks in surprise, feeling uncertain about whether that was a genuine invitation.

 

Not that he’d accept it if it was.  

 

Archie raises his arm in a wave, a wide smile on his face and Jughead follows his gaze to where Northside’s very own princess has just stepped from her car.

 

Jughead’s heart dips unexpectedly as they head towards her and the large navy blue floral umbrella currently protecting her from the onslaught of rain she’s standing under. She returns Archie’s wave happily and he calls out to her that he’ll “only be a few minutes!”

 

Of course those two are together. Makes sense.

 

Jughead uses his already soaked tank to wipe the excess raindrops from his face as Archie quickly explains what time they should all be over there as if Jughead hadn’t just turned down the invitation with his silence.   

 

Jughead nods, though the information is far from being retained. His neck feels warm despite the rain and he knows it’s because she’s watching them as they walk by.

 

Watching him.

* * *

“Jughead! Wake up!”

 

He groans as the playful weight of his younger sister and her huge sheep dog land on top of him. Hot Dog barks excitedly as Jellybean claps her hands and he tries to feign annoyance with all of the drool dripping from the dog’s mouth onto his sheets.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? I thought kiddos sleep in,” he teases. The tension in his shoulders dissipates just being around her and he can't help the silliness that ensues. 

 

“I’m not a kiddo!” Jellybean snaps, grabbing a pillow from behind her and smacking it down on Jughead’s chest. He laughs, reaching out to pet Hot Dog, who immediately wiggles his tail excitedly in response.

 

“Can we walk Hot Dog in Sweet Water Park today?”

 

He pretends to think about it, tapping his chin until she juts out her bottom lip and he can't help but give in. 

 

“Where’s Dad, Jelly?” The word 'dad' feels foreign on in his tongue, but he’s willing to keep up the façade for her.

 

"At work." 

 

Jughead rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands as if the movement could ebb away the anger that eats at him every time Jellybean is here.

 

His father has been granted one weekend a month unsupervised visitation rights with Jellybean and only because Jughead had forced him to detox for a week before the court date. He’d dressed his father up in what he’d thought were the cleanest and most business-like clothing his father owned. He’d spent weeks coaching his father on what to say, read several custody battle books in the local library, and had been at his father’s side on the day.

 

His mother hadn’t spoken to him since the day she’d taken Jellybean and when he’d reached for her after the Judge had read the decision, she had jerked her arm away from him as if he was the spawn of something grotesque. 

 

His father downed an entire bottle of Jack that night.

 

He’d been 12 years old.

 

But he’s 17 now – almost 18 and yes he’s counting down every single moment - and his and Jelly’s weekends were and still are his absolute favorite. Even if his father is nowhere to be found.

 

“Yeah, Sweet Water Park sounds like a great idea. What do you think, Hot Dog?”

 

The dog barks loudly and Jelly Bean giggles excitedly, shrieking and running down the hall when Jughead makes to tickle her.

 

He showers quickly, nodding in approval when he sees his sister decked out in a pair of beat up black Converse just like his.

 

“Nice shoes.”

 

“You copied me,” she says quickly, sticking out her tongue before she hooks the leash onto Hot Dog’s collar. Jughead rolls his eyes, grabbing his father’s truck keys.

 

Not that he needs them. He’ll be at the Whyte Wyrm most of the weekend nursing a bottle of whatever’s cheapest.

 

It’s beautiful outside in a way that’s almost unusual for Riverdale. A cool breeze provides some relief from the sun’s intense heat and Jellybean sticks her hand out the window as he drives, her hand riding the waves of the air.

 

Toni and Sweet Pea lift their hands in acknowledgement at a stoplight next to him, but when they spot Jellybean in the passenger seat, they slide their helmets off.

 

“JB!”

 

“Jellybeanie!”

 

Jellybean quickly turns and unbuckles her seatbelt, shoving her hand past Jughead and out his window to wave at them excitedly. Jughead grimaces, nodding to his friends before gently motioning for Jellybean to buckle her seatbelt again.

 

The park is busy when they finally arrive, but that’s just the way Jelly likes it, her and Hot Dog taking off towards the jogging trail with his leash flapping in the wind behind them.

 

“Jelly, hang on!” he calls after her, chuckling as he breaks into a light jog after them. Probably the most intense work out he’ll get this summer. On purpose anyways.

 

She slows, catching Hot Dog’s leash once he sits down next to her. “You’re slow, Jug.”

 

“No,” he scoffs, bumping her shoulder as he catches his breath. “You’re just fast.”

 

That makes her smile proudly and they head down the trail that will lead them parallel to Sweet Water River. There are several people out jogging, a few small families walking around, basking in the beautiful summer weather. Jughead tugs on his crown beanie, keeping an eye on where his little sister is walking Hot Dog a few feet in front of him.

 

But eventually he shifts his gaze to the family taking a photo in front of the river and he finds himself wondering what that’s like. What it’s like to just wake up with your little family and simultaneously agree that a day in the park is a great idea. To pack sandwiches and eat them on a worn blanket set out in the middle of the sunshine. To laugh and talk about how the monotony of life doesn’t feel monotonous at all when spent amongst those you love.

 

“Shit, sorry!”

 

He feels the impact of someone tripping into him before he sees her, tearing his eyes away from where the dad is currently making his kids scoot closer together for another photo.

 

“Are you alright…” his voice fades when he realizes he’s caught someone who looks strangely like-

 

“Polly! Are you okay?” Betty Cooper comes running up, her ponytail swinging back and forth behind her head. Her eyebrows are furrowed with concern and when she lifts her gaze from her sister to meet his, her mouth parts.

 

“Yes, I am  _definitely_ okay,” this Polly girl says with a giggle and Jughead raises an eyebrow, immediately righting her and taking a step back. She looks a little like Betty, except older and her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders. “Thanks, Prince Charming.”

 

He shoves his hands into his pockets, the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth only doing so because he’s  _pretty_ sure he just saw Betty roll her eyes.

 

It takes effort for him not to stare at the way Betty’s running shorts are clinging to her toned thighs and he thinks to himself  _nice legs_ before his mind subtly corrects him with  _nice everything_. He can see Jellybean and Hot Dog out of the corner of his eye and he refrains from groaning out loud.

 

Of course they’re knee deep in the muddiest part of the river.

 

“What brings you to the Northside, Jones?”

 

“You two know each other?” Polly glances excitedly between Betty and Jughead, her hands clasped tightly together.

 

“No.” They both say it in unison and Betty whips her head towards him, her eyebrows knitted together. He only chuckles in response, extending his hand to Polly.

 

“I’m Jughead.”

 

Her hand slips immediately into his as her eyes widen. “Jughead  _Jones?_  The Serpent Prince?”

 

He winces at the title and not just because it’s cringy as it stands. “I prefer Jughead.”

 

“I’m happy to call you whatever you like-“

 

“Okay, thank you, Polly,” Betty says quickly, nudging her sister and motioning her head towards the trail. “Sorry, we’ve uh got some jogging to do.”

 

Polly waves at him, wiggling her fingers and tossing in a wink (although whether that’s really for him, or just to piss Betty off, he isn’t sure) before turning to jog down the trail they were heading to initially. Betty is still standing there, bouncing from one foot to the other as if pondering what she should say. Apparently deciding on nothing, she half smiles at him and turns to follow her sister.  

 

“Hey Cooper,” Jughead calls as he glances away from where Jellybean is currently building some kind of mud castle that Hot Dog keeps walking on in an effort to get to her. Betty turns around, her cheeks flushed from the run.

 

“You’re cute,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he fights the smile threatening to cross his face before he continues, "when you’re jealous.”

 

She takes a moment to register what he’s said before flashing him that infamous fake Cooper smile and raising her middle finger.

* * *

He really should have signed up for direct deposit, but nothing beats the feeling of a paper check to him. Of physically holding a piece of paper representing all of his hard work in monetary form.

 

Of course, the only way to get said paper check, is from Mr. Andrews himself.  

 

She’s the only one in the office when he opens the door, casually sitting with her legs crossed on the worn couch next to Mr. Andrews desk. He considers backing out and shutting the door, not sure he’s really in the mood to have a conversation with Northside’s elite while she patiently waits for her boyfriend. Or to be ignored either.

 

But he pushes open the door and drags a chair towards himself anyways, collapsing into it the moment he’s able. His hard hat slips from his fingers, clattering against the linoleum and he can’t seem to find the energy to scoop it back up.

 

“Long day?” her voice is gentle, tentative, as though she’s as unsure as he is about whether they should tiptoe into conversation.

 

He glances at her and a warmth settles in the pit of his stomach when he sees the way her eyes are slowly roaming down the expanse of his body, lingering on the strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans where his tank top has ridden up.

 

It’s almost as though she’s studying him and he suddenly sits up, feeling self-conscious under the intensity of her gaze.

 

“Long life, really."

 

“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

 

There’s a teasing smile on her face now; it’s small, but more genuine than he’s ever seen from a Cooper before.

 

“Not really, no.” Her smile falters when her gaze follows his to the Serpent tattoo intricately woven around his bare bicep and he silently wishes he’d worn a t-shirt today.

 

“I guess I can relate to that,” she finally replies with a long sigh, shoving her phone into her bag. He expects her to get up and leave at that, but she doesn’t. Instead, she moves so that her feet are now tucked under her, her fingers intertwined atop her lap.

 

“Really?” Jughead replies doubtfully, his eyebrows raised. “What could possibly be long about your life, Cooper? Other than the line at Starbucks?”

 

She rolls her eyes at that and he runs his fingers through his hair, wondering where the hell Mr. Andrews is. Or Archie for that matter.

 

“Don’t you think it’s interesting that the Southside is constantly trying to break the stereotypes the Northside supposedly created, and yet all you do is stereotype us?”

 

“Do you like Starbucks?”

 

“Do you like robbing gas stations?”

 

He shoves his tongue into his cheek to keep from laughing because, “touché, Cooper.”

 

A weighted silence falls between them and he clears his throat, glancing at the digital clock sitting amongst a pile of paper on Mr. Andrews’ desk.

 

“I bet it makes life easier though…being with someone like Archie.”

 

He can't bring himself to look at her, hoping he'd only thought that sentiment rather than actually said it out loud. She shifts on the couch and he closes his eyes for a second, knowing he'd  _definitely_ said that out loud. 

 

_Fuck._  

 

“It is.” Her voice is soft and he can see out of the corner of his eye that she has that damn bottom lip tucked between her teeth again. He drums his fingers against his knees to occupy himself, not realizing how much her verbal confirmation would affect him. “He’s a good friend.”

 

_Friend._

The word echoes in his mind and he leans back in the chair, stealing a glance in her direction. She has both of her eyebrows raised expectantly and he realizes he should probably say something, but his ears are ringing and the trailer suddenly feels too small for the two of them.

 

“Betty! Sorry about that, I couldn’t find my wallet,” Archie says as he swings open the trailer door, poking his head in to grin at the both of them.

 

“No problem!” Betty grabs her bag and walks over to the trailer door Archie has just let fall shut. _Chivalrous._ He has his chin resting in his hand, acutely aware of the way she’s lingering by the door.

 

“You're cute, by the way,” she says with a teasing lilt to her voice and he casually raises his fist to his mouth to hide the grin threatening to appear on his face, already knowing where this is going. “When you're  _jealous_.”

 

She lets the door shut behind her just as he lifts his own middle finger.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi babes! i hope you enjoyed this update and this little blast from the past. your comments are my favorite part of posting my writing so leave one if you'd like! ❤
> 
> you can always find me on tumblr at noorakardemmomesaetre.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, hearing your thoughts is my favorite part of posting my writing! Leave a comment if you'd like ❤
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at noorakardemmomesaetre.


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